


Faculty Clubbing

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [263]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-03 19:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12153252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: Our lads have a lunch date at the Faculty Club.





	Faculty Clubbing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Capurnia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capurnia/gifts).



> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Emila-Wan and Carol  
> Mali Wane and Laura McEwan for posting to the Master Apprentice ML  
> Travis for posting to the Master Apprentice Archive on AO3   
> Alex for inspiring Arcadia 
> 
> References:  
> [Irwin Allen - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Irwin_Allen)  
> [Maurice Sendak - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maurice_Sendak)  
> [Moby Dick (1956 film) - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moby_Dick_\(1956_film\))
> 
> Related Arcadias:  
> [Classy](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2272755)   
> [A Classy Start](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4710500)  
> [Back to School](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4276143)  
> [Good Reception](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4209183)  
> [The Milestone Banquet](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4312131)  
> [A Mellow St. Patrick's Day](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10150133)
> 
>  
> 
> To Mali and Capurnia

Quinn sighed gustily when he heard what sounded like a stampede of students outside their door in the corridor of Taton Hall.

"How 'bout a lunch date at the Faculty Club? My treat, handsome." Ian grinned at Quinn from his perch on his husband's desk in their office at Luke.

Quinn patted his herven's thigh. "I'd be honored. Just what we need after all the chaos this week."

It was the Friday of the first week of classes, and it had been as overwhelming as both of them had expected. Ian's classroom in Wookley Hall still didn't have enough desks for all his students, so some of them had to sit on the floor. Quinn's microphone wasn't working in the Taton Hall auditorium, so he had to project his voice to the rafters; it felt as if he were starring in a play three times a week. At least they still had plenty of erasers and chalk at this point in the semester.

Since they had office hours after lunch, they left their briefcases on their desks. They wore their corduroy jackets -- Quinn's in dark chocolate, Ian's in milk chocolate, both with cinnamon suede patches -- which were practically their uniforms. They also decided to keep on their ties, deep green and blue, since they were eating at the Faculty Club, instead of the Student Center. Their Clarks dress shoes felt almost as comfortable as sneakers, so they didn't mind the prospect of a half-mile walk to the club. Cream shirt and slacks for Ian, with a tan shirt and brown slacks for Quinn, completed their outfits.

Quinn gave his lad an appreciative look as they rose to leave. "You look good enough to eat, laddie mine. Who needs lunch?" Of course, his stomach picked that moment to grumble, and both of them laughed.

"You always need lunch," Ian said dryly when he stopped chuckling.

"Too true, especially after hours of classes." Quinn clapped Ian on the shoulder, then turned his husband towards him for a kiss, since their office door was still locked. He had relaxed his 'not in the office' rule through the years, especially after their wedding in Luke Chapel, when all of their friends, colleagues, and students knew about their marriage.

Macchiato and latte made for an even better taste when blended together in their mouths, but they kept the kiss brief, mindful of their environment. Quinn winked in approval when his herven was the first to disentangle, and he couldn't resist a lingering touch to Ian's cheek, brushing his fingertips over the warm skin hungry for his caress. They shared an endless Moment of peace.

The men headed out into the corridor, just as chaotic as it had sounded and used their Jedi-like coordination to weave among the students to get to the stairs. When they reached the first floor, they saw an overflow of people at the English Department office and were delighted to walk by without a summons from Case. Luckily, he and his secretary Jessica probably couldn't see them amid the sea of humanity.

Both of them heaved sighs of relief when they opened the door to the fresh air of an afternoon in Upstate New York. A beautiful day in early September awaited them. The campus had a nature preserve around it, and Quinn particularly enjoyed the path between Taton Hall and the Faculty Club, because it was surrounded by Luke's own flora and fauna.

Cumulus clouds sailed upon a brilliant blue sky; a breeze at their backs coaxed a stride out of them, rather than an amble; squirrels, hedgehogs, and chipmunks darted between the trees; sparrows, finches, and warblers sang to them along the way.

It was almost two o'clock already, so the lunch rush was over by now, and only a couple of tables were taken. They waved to Professors Bertrand and Torrijos, two of the math professors they'd met at Quinn's 10th anniversary banquet when they were seated at their table. The banquet had taken place at the Luke Convention Center, back in 2010. The mathematicians had just finished their meal, which was a shame because both Ian and Quinn would've liked to chat with them over lunch. Of course, now they had quality time to themselves after the hubbub of that morning. And relaxing together was always priceless.

They were greeted and seated by Sharra Cameron, a hostess who'd taken a course on the short stories of Edgar Allan Poe with Quinn a couple of years ago. She gave them their favorite corner table by the window, where Quinn smiled when he saw that his favorite oak tree on campus was thriving. Ian picked up a menu and noticed approvingly that the club had gotten into the spirit of the first week of classes -- the specials for Friday were hand-written on sheets of loose-leaf notebook paper.

"Ahhh, it's so nice to be away from the 'wild rumpus'," said Quinn, quoting Maurice Sendak, one of his favorite writers of children's books. His parents had given him 'The Nutshell Library' when he was a little boy, and he'd asked for 'Chicken Soup with Rice' over and over as a bedtime story. In yet another example of being made for each other, Ian told him decades later that he had asked for the very same thing.

Ian nodded. "I swear the first day of classes reminds me more and more of a zoo every single year." He grinned when he read the specials for today. "They get it here. Southern fried chicken, meatloaf and mashed potatoes, beef pot pie, chicken and dumplings. It's all comfort food."

Quinn was looking at the menu as if he wanted to eat every special on it.

"I'll take the pot pie; I can't resist the warm crust," Ian said.

Quinn smiled in hobbity anticipation; he knew he'd be getting some of that crust, thanks to his generous laddie.

Ian grinned back at him, easily reading his mind.

"The perfect end to a hectic week," said Quinn, matching his husband's grin. "I think I'll have some of that meatloaf. Can't be as good as my mom's, but that's okay."

"Oh, you'll eat anything with mushroom gravy, you hobbit, you," Ian teased with a wink.

Quinn snorted. "We've been through this before, laddie mine. I'm part Ent and part hobbit; what do you think of calling me a Hobbent?"

"It 'ent' good English, I'll tell you that." Ian groaned, and Quinn couldn't help but join him. "But I think Professor Tolkien would forgive you, since you're such an ardent admirer of his work."

"I'm glad to hear it, lad, especially since the good professor made plenty of puns on Ents himself, Quinn said. "It's hard to resist, actually."

"Now you know how I feel," said Ian, his lips twitching. If you counted up the puns he'd made over the past fourteen years, they'd probably be in the thousands.

The waiter came over with a warm loaf of asiago bread, herbed olive oil, and glasses of water on a tray, and they ordered their meals. Since they hadn't eaten since 7 o'clock that morning, even Ian joined Quinn in wolfing down the bread.

"So how did your lecture on Ray Bradbury go this morning?" Ian asked, dipping a slice in fragrant oil.

Quinn said, "The kids enjoyed it. None of them knew that he was also a screenwriter, like Tennessee Williams, Gore Vidal, and F. Scott Fitzgerald."

Ian nodded. "Yeah, Bradbury's more well-known as a writer of short stories."

"When we wrote our joint paper on Melville and Hawthorne, back in 2003," said Quinn, "do you remember that we watched John Huston's film adaptation of Bradbury's screenplay?"

"Oh, yeah. Loved seeing Gregory Peck as Ahab and Richard Basehart as Ishmael." Ian grinned. "When I was growing up, I used to watch Basehart in 'Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea', y'know, the Sixties series about the submarine."

"Lucky it was still in syndication then; don't think it's on TV these days. I loved watching all of those Irwin Allen shows when I came home from school." Quinn's eyes crinkled in fond memory. "You name it -- 'The Time Tunnel', 'Lost in Space', 'Land of the Giants'." He chuckled. "But I have to admit, I liked Basehart's Admiral Nelson and David Hedison's Captain Crane the most."

Ian's enthusiasm for these classics was as great as his husband's. "My favorites, too, and I also liked the team of Robert Colbert and James Darren on 'Time Tunnel'. Brings back so many memories."

The waiter brought their entrees over, and they dug in hungrily, despite polishing off the bread earlier. High-level trading ensued, with Quinn spooning over a big portion of his meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and Ian forking over a third of his pot pie. They happily settled down to eat, as Quinn even remembered to spoon part of his mushroom gravy on Ian's potatoes.

Somehow, they managed not to get gravy on their ties, which was a good thing because silk was not easy to clean. Of course, Ian got a bit of mashed potato on his upper lip but quickly used his napkin to clean it away when he saw Quinn's eyes gleaming.

"You never told me how your lecture on Mary Renault went," Quinn said curiously.

"Oh, it was a lively class. Only a couple of students knew she was a nurse and that it had a great influence on her writing, so we had a fascinating discussion about military hospitals in World War II, as well as medicine in Ancient Greece."

"Wish I'd been there," said Quinn.

When they were finished, the waiter brought dessert menus. Quinn looked at his Aldera watch, to see that it was 2:44 p.m., so they had time for it before their office hours would start, in about an hour. The theme of comfort food extended to the dessert selections, as well: apple pie, dark-chocolate cake, vanilla cheesecake. They decided to split the pie and wash it down with pumpkin-spice cappuccinos.

"Mmmmm. The first spiced coffee of the season. Can't wait until the Luke bookstore starts to sell them." Quinn took a sip of water.

Ian said, "Me, too. Wish they had them all year round, but they usually stop having them by the end of January."

They chatted and relaxed for a few minutes until the waiter gave them their treats.

Ian raised his mug and clinked it to Quinn's. "Now I can make it through office hours," he said with a crooked grin.

Quinn gave out a hearty laugh. "'Twill be easy, me boyo. I'll be there to chat with you between students, and I don't think many will come yet. They tend to wait until just before the first exam."

"Thus speaks the voice of experience," Ian said with a glint in his eye.

The apple pie was warm from the oven and had a scoop of rum-vanilla ice cream melting into the crust. The waiter had given them two spoons and put the plate at the center of the table between them. They ate slowly, savoring each bite, the spices in the pie complementing the spices in the cappuccino. Quinn was already thinking how they would taste on Ian's lips.

When they finished it, down to the last crumb, they sat back and smiled at each other in satisfaction. Now their memories of the start of classes for the Autumn 2017 semester would be more than just the hullabaloo of a hard week. Ian paid with his MasterGuard, then they used the facilities before the walk back to Taton Hall.

It was even more pleasant outdoors than before, the warmth of the sun increasing in the hour and a half since they were outside earlier. This time, they even saw a gorgeous blue and yellow bunting soaring above them on the path. They strolled along contentedly, in no hurry since they still had almost fifteen minutes until their office hours began.

After they got back to the office, they didn't chance another kiss, because a student might knock at any minute. But Quinn couldn't resist dipping his thumb into his husband's dimple in a slow caress on the way to his desk. Quinn beamed when Ian's eyes shone up at him in pure happiness -- they could not have asked for a better start to the semester.

Their academic arcadia was in full swing now, just the way they liked it.


End file.
